Broken Beyond Repair
by The Brilliant Lady Bulma
Summary: Current events have Bulma thinking, will she really leave Vegeta for someone else? If so, who? Will she forgive him? How many lives will be changed?
1. Chapter One: Flames of bitter regret

DISCLAIMER: No, for the last time, I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. I'm just this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. So since I don't own, nor do I have any money, suing is just out of the question. MOVE ON!  
  
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Summary: After a few change of events leave Bulma thinking, will she notice what's been right under her nose all along? Will she leave Vegeta forever and run into the arms of her savior, or will she forgive him? And with the changes going on, how many marriages will be put in danger?  
  
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AN:  
  
Hey it's LadyB again! ^_^ Yes...before we go there...I do know that I haven't updated my other stories yet but I will in due time. I'll try to pay more attention to them from now.  
  
Ok this story is kinda different for me...no...let me rephrase that, IT IS totally different for me to write something like this. I'm not going to tell you guys where this story is going, you really just have to think about it. You might think you know where it's going....but you have no idea.  
  
I hope you like, flames, reviews, comments, whatevers are always welcome. I hope you enjoy this and let me know if I should keep going with it.  
  
As always, Luvies and Huggies,  
  
~LadyB  
  
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Broken Beyond Repair  
  
Chapter One: Flames of bitter regret; Don't you care?!  
  
By: LadyBulma24  
  
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I'm broken beyond repair,  
  
The hurt, there's no compare,  
  
Show something, do you care?  
  
Is there nothing in your bottomless glare?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Soft and simple nothings filled the room in which two women sat together, having been talking a few seconds earlier. The eldest of the women reached over on the oak coffee table dividing them, poring a glass of water for herself, and holding one up for her close acquaintance. The younger, most vonerable woman, declined politely and went back to counting the ceiling tiles high above her, while laying casually on a red futon.  
  
"Can you remember when this all started?" The woman asked her patient. She observed her through her crystal green eyes serving her for vision. Her patient crossed her legs, as she lay outspread on the ruby chaise lounge, hugging the pillow from behind her head.  
  
"Yes and no."  
  
She bit softly on the top of her black felt pen. "Really? How so Bulma? What's been going on, tell me."  
  
Bulma Briefs sat up suddenly on the futon, placing her hands in her lap between her legs covered by the fabric of well-worn faded blue jeans. The bright blue orbs that accented Bulma's equally celestial cerulean tresses shot around the room for a moment, landing briefly on the thin white drapes being blown in by a soft gust of wind that danced around the room. Managing to tare her eyes away from the sheer cloth that spun around with the wind in a ballet of leisure movements, Bulma allowed them to land on her psychiatrist, Akira. There she sat, the richest and most brilliant woman of her time, with a marriage that had blessed her with two lovely children, each of them in her image one way or another. She dared not call her marriage a happy one. Did happily women think so much about life before they were married, and did their husbands leave them for months on end? But then again, were happily married women found in the matrimonial ecstasy with an alien prince as a companion?  
  
"I had another fight with Vegeta this week."  
  
A sympathetic look crossed Akira's soft emerald eyes. "Oh sweetie, what about this time?" Making patients feel comfortable was key, and she had a way of making Bulma forget the rank divergence between them.  
  
Bulma tucked a strand of her blue hair behind her ear, the gold hoops hanging from her lobes catching a glimpse of the setting sun of Satan City, a shine emitted from them. She then sighed heavily, her willowy body frame rising up with the breath and then down again as she let it out slowly. "He's been away for a while...taking off just like that, without warning or care."  
  
Akira placed a hand under her own chin, propping it up on the knee of her crossed right leg. "Uh huh, like before."  
  
"Yes. Like before..."  
  
"So then why does this bother you now...?"  
  
Once more the spinning fabric of the drapes were the most interesting thing in the room. "We fought... horribly." Admitted Bulma in a tone so low, it seemed to drown right into the stillness of the room. "I told him to leave, and never return."  
  
"What about the children?"  
  
Bulma took that moment to wrap her arms around her own knees, pulling them up to her round chest. She leaned down, mashing her breast to her upper legs, her head resting on top of her knees with fountains of her hair running down her jeans like rivers. "I didn't think about that at the moment. I just wanted him out. I couldn't stand to see him anymore. I just..." a long weathering sigh. "-had to get away from him..."  
  
Akira could see the pain written along every line of her patient's face, no matter how faint the line was. It was still there, as was the anguish drifting in the ocean of her eyes. "And then...?"  
  
Bulma felt the tears threatening to rise up into her throat and out of her eyes, the cry that had gone unaided for days, even weeks, consecutively. She bit them back, her own blood flowing in the walls of her mouth; she swallowed it down just like so many other repressed feelings. "He left. Just like that. No second words, no kiss good-bye. Just the sound of the door slamming in the empty house." Sobs choked Bulma back from speaking once again. "Aki...why?"  
  
"Honey, you told him to leave, he probably didn't want to upset you anymore." She offered Bulma a weak, modest smile, trying not to give her the impression that Bulma's suffering pleased her. Her efforts were rewarded by a turn of the head, and tears of regret flowing faster down not only her patient's but her friend's face. "But he's come back before, he'll come around again. I know it."  
  
"Aki-Chan, I can't be so sure anymore. I've tried to tell myself the same thing over and over again." Bulma's voice wavered ever so slightly. "It's just for tonight, he'll be back tomorrow." Her fingers took the pillow and yanked at a fist full of its material. "That was a week ago...."  
  
There was a trivial confusion in Akira's demeanor, she was reading something Bulma that was absolutely new to her. "You're scared...??"  
  
And her statement was confirmed when Bulma snapped her head up, her large blue eyes pooling over with tears glancing up at her, pleading for deliverance. "TO DEATH! AKI I MIGHT LOSE HIM!"  
  
In attempt to calm her friend down, Akira reached one of her bare arms over the table separating them and patted Bulma's head softly, sending love through each inch of her touch. "Bulma, don't be." Akira shook her head, her short raven hair reflecting the almost set sun in each strand. "You're stronger than this. I know you are. And in his own sick twisted way, the man must love you."  
  
The insecurity of the matter irked Bulma, like a toothpick picking at the back of her brain, demanding attention. "I just hope so, but it's hard to know. He's changed me...I feel like when I'm around him, I'm a different person."  
  
Now they were getting somewhere. "What do you mean sweetie, you mean that you feel as if you have to be different?"  
  
To reply, Bulma gave a shaking motion to her head, still leaning on the comfort of her knees. "No, he just... makes me act different, for some reason. And I don't mind it, half of the time I don't realize it."  
  
Akira pulled her hand away, noticing that her friend had calmed down somewhat. "Ah..." She muttered softly and jotted something down on her pale yellow notepad with her black felt pen.  
  
"You know what?!" Bulma spontaneously lifted her head up from her hard knees, glimpsing at her raven-haired confidant. "I don't know how I've been dealing with this were it not for..." Her voice faded for a minute, never quite returning.  
  
"Darling....?" Akira removed her eyes from her own painstaking handwriting. "Come again?"  
  
A small finger ran patterns down the denim of the jeans, drawing imaginary figures along the contours of the out of textile out of sheer nerves. "I said that I don't know how I would have dealt with this, were it not for...someone special."  
  
Akira smiled noticeably. "Who is it?" She could just tell, the second Bulma began to talk about this 'special someone' her eyes started to lift, her entire aura started to clear from the negativity. Whoever this person was, they were lifting Bulma up higher from the depression that was screaming her name. "Have you talked about the person here with me before?"  
  
"I might have...I don't even remember now." Followed by a nervous chuckle.  
  
"Why don't you just tell me a name, I might be able to help you remember." Akira could tell that all of this was hard on her brilliant companion.  
  
A long, hollow sigh filled the room, taking over and enveloping all of the silence around them. "My best friend."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"He's been wonderful...he understands me." Bulma let out a content sigh, smiling ever so slightly.  
  
Akira nodded. 'So it's a he.' That was evident now by both Bulma's words and her actions. "Don't I get a name?"  
  
"Aki...he's I've never felt this way around him, he just knows exactly how to say things so that I never cry again." She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "He holds me and I know everything's going to be ok."  
  
"He is...."  
  
A smile as bright as the sun itself reflected Bulma's emotions, locked down so deep inside of her and no one had the key. Or at least now, Akira was beginning to think that there might be one person, this friend of hers. "Goku."  
  
Akira dropped her pen to the floor with an empty clatter. She couldn't believe her hears.  
  
~*~  
  
"I'm hoooome!"  
  
Bulma called from the doorway the only thing coming back to greet her was the echo of her own voice. She shook her head, taking small steps in through the white Plaster-of-Paris doorway. Her black suitcase was sent to the floor while she walked in fully, slamming her keys down on a white end table with a loud metallic 'clank'. The blue-haired maiden glanced around her home; everything was in perfect order, just as how she had left it. She sighed; by the stillness and appearance of things neither of her children were home, which could be very good, or very bad. They were leaving her alone, in a 10-bedroom home, could that really be healthy?  
  
Bulma glanced all around; none of the lights were on in the house, not even the ones in their extremely dark living room. A click of her teeth, they could have at least turned a few of them on. She walked around for a moment, contemplating the thought as to whether or not she should turn to artificial illumination in the house, or leave it up to the soft glow of nightfall to be her conductor. The conclusion was simple, with her body aching in places she didn't even know possible, it would be best just to relax with some wine and let the troubles just flow again. If worse came to worse, she knew for a fact that she kept candles in almost ever room of the house hidden somewhere.  
  
With her mind made up and her jacket tossed carelessly onto the arm of the couch, Bulma worked her way into the kitchen, coming to a halt at a hefty wooden cabinet. Her hands scooped up to open the door, revealing bottles and bottles of wine, some worth hundreds, even thousands. Blue eyes met the Princess-Crystal clock hanging over the window of the kitchen, 7 o'clock. Time for dinner would roll around soon enough. Again, dinner for one, wine for five.  
  
"......."  
  
Bulma didn't even know what to think, as if it were an art long forgotten how to perform. The only thing she could do standing there was watch as the rich velvet liquor cascaded down into the semiprecious stone goblet her fingers steadied at the counter below. It ran like ruby blood, gems in the sun, the liquid embodiment of sin. Bringing it up to her lips, savoring the texture, taste and smell, her body began to loosen, to calm. This was her version of paradise. She turned to bring the cup with her to the kitchen table, to sit and deliberate as the dim light of the twilight pored in the open window, running wild on everything solid in the confinement of the kitchen.  
  
"Don't drink so much."  
  
Her body violently shook in response, tight hold on the goblet releasing adequately sending it to the crashing abyss of the white tile beneath her feet. A pile of reddish-purple cut stone forming at her feet; Bulma took a few steps back.  
  
"Who's there?!"  
  
She turned and turned around again, looking desperately for the source of the voice. Rewarded for her searching were her eyes when she finally set them down on a figure in the shadows, arrogantly covered in a blanket of plentiful obscurity. Her mind cursed at her, this, her mind told her, was what she got for leaving all of the lights off in the house, resorting to the light of nature to guide her and giving yield to her plea of laziness.  
  
The figure took a step closer. "Are you alright?"  
  
Bulma's eyes shot wide and her mouth opened long enough for her to scream. "VEGETA?!" At that very second, her knees started to cave in under her, she felt faint as the ground came up to kiss her. It was just like that supercilious bastard to come and pay her the fright of her life, after nearly a week of his disappearance.  
  
"Mom!" The individual rushed towards Bulma's falling body and into the light. A lavender flash was al that Bulma made out before she shut her eyes slowly, a lavender blur of motion. Trunks swept his mother into his arms as fast as he could, before she hit the floor and injured herself. "Mom, what's the matter? What's going on?"  
  
Weakly, Bulma fluttered her eyes open, glimpsing up into the interminable marine of her son's eyes, so blue...so incessant...yet so much like his father. "Trunks....." Once more she was at a loss for words and voice, she could do nothing but stare at him, drinking in his image.  
  
Trunks Briefs, he was her son, her joy, her pride. He hovered over her at a surprising 6 foot 3, locks of her once lavender hair had been passed down to him, her eyes glared back at her from his face. That face, the face of his father. So set in handsome determination, for he was her shining 22- year-old prince. Trunks' body was prone in muscles tightly packed under his black fighting shirt. His body could rival the one of a god; the thought then dawned on Bulma as to why she had confused him for Vegeta. Still, she could not stop shaking. At times like this, he was her savior when no one else was around, the bond of a son and a mother.  
  
"I'm here mom, right here." He tightened his hold on his mother's body, out of fear that she would ultimately hit the floor. She was pressed closer to his muscular chest, Bulma took in his sent as he held and spoke to her, just like his father right down to the smell. His heart beat steadily against her ear, he opened his mouth to speak, "What's wrong?"  
  
Bulma brought her hand to her own beating heart, it sounded like a hammer on delicate glass and she wondered, could he hear it too? It seemed to her that even the gods could hear her distress. "You...scared me."  
  
The youth expressed his amusement gracefully, trying his best to make light of the situation. "Obviously, but my question is why? You ok?" He knew damn well what was bothering her, she had been like that for a week, Trunks was just trying to see if still they had made no progress. His arms came undone from around his mother's frail frame, giving her the opportunity to stand. Trunks watched her every move, she took hold of the edge of the Blair-wood table, her legs wobbling, and stood with support.  
  
"I thought you were-"  
  
"-Don't worry, I'm not."  
  
"But you-"  
  
"I know, it's not my fault I can't help the resemblance." Trunks looked at her apologetically. That arrogant shit he was forced to call father really had done a number on his precious mother. He had her all shot up in nerves and he was so damn far away...  
  
Bulma returned her nicely rounded bottom to the comfort of the padded chair; the wine remains residing still a few inches from her presence.  
  
"You can't keep letting him do this to you." Trunks growled, bending down to pick up the filtrate that had once been a taste of his mother's favorite wine. "He can't control you this way!"  
  
"I can't help it Trunks. I've bonded with him, if he's not around, I hurt."  
  
"Blasted Saiyans...." She heard him curse under his breath, his hands working on the shattered glass, skillfully avoiding damaging his hands. "Fucking bonds..."  
  
"Gomen nasai." Her voice was flat, lifeless.  
  
Trunks shot up, frustrated. "It's not your fault, he's the one that has done this to you. He's the one that ruined you!"  
  
Bulma's eyes changed color, darkening noticeably. "Part of it is my fault as well, he can't take all of the blame."  
  
"And neither can you!"  
  
"He'll come back-"  
  
"It's better if he never does!"  
  
"I need him-"  
  
"That's what he wants you to think!"  
  
"Dammit Trunks!"  
  
"NANI?!" By then they were both shaking, anger raging through both of the blood that ran through their viens.  
  
"Stop doing that!"  
  
Trunks walked up to his mother, knelt, and glared at her dead into her azure eyes. "Stop what?" His tone began to lower. "Stop telling you the truth?" He reached out to touch her, but just like she would have reacted to Vegeta, she pulled away, backing into the hardness of the chair at her behind. "I'm just doing this for you own good."  
  
She didn't reply, neither in motions neither in words.  
  
"Don't you see? He's just ruining your life." Trunks shook his head, a lavender shine. "Open you eyes mom!"  
  
Bulma's eyes began to water, the hurt, the accusations, all of them gradually yet effectively accumulating inside of her. "No." Her voice broke, body shaking, temples sweating out her rage and sorrow.  
  
"Then what is it, Bulma?!" Trunks was still trembling, his eyes flashing between the tints of blue and green. It was evident now to them both, that his wrath was getting the best of him; the curse of Saiyan men. His voice was nothing like his normal one and he had now dared to call her by her name.  
  
His voice....that voice....she remembered it well....no...but it was just so angry...couldn't be...was it? No....she was going crazy...he sounded just like...but was he....?  
  
Her eyes widened, remembrance slicing down at her mind like a sharpened knife moving in for the kill, softly murdering her spirit. "Oh will you just stop it Trunks!" The plea came out in a hoarse cry. Bulma drove her hands into his chest, pounding, wanting to rip him to shreds and just take out all of her resentment on him.  
  
He narrowed his eyes, her poundings not nearly causing as much of a nuisance as she had originally hoped for. "Why?" This time he hissed.  
  
Suddenly her eyes dimmed completely, the only color left in them was the slightest trace of sky blue. "You're killing me..."  
  
Then she flung willingly into his arms, as lifeless as a rag doll.  
  
~*~  
  
So how was it? What do you ppl think? Continue? Stop? Good? Bad? Please lemme know, show meeh some of that luv! ^_^ 


	2. Chapter Two: Like A Lifeless Angel

DISCLAIMER: No, for the last time, I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. I'm just this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. So since I don't own, nor do I have any money, suing is just out of the question. MOVE ON!  
  
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Summary: A chain of dramatic events leave Bulma thinking, will she notice what her life's been missing all along? Will she leave Vegeta and run into the arms of someone else, or will she forgive him? And with the changes going on, how many marriages will be put in danger?  
  
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AN:  
  
Thanks for the reviews I got for the first chapter, not that many but that's ok. I don't mind it just as long as anyone like this, that's enough. I'm so surprised that ppl actually lyked this story. ::grins:: So since I wasn't pelted with stones, told to go to tell, or cursed at, I'm going to continue this story. ^___^ I take it that it must be like on some degree. I hope I get some more reviews... ::hint hint:: I will try and better my skills, so if any of you have any comments, shoot them away. I'm all ears. ^______^  
  
Oh, and a special thanks to Son-Kun. ::hugs Goku:: Thanks for the luv!! This chapter is for you buddy!! Happi reading, enjoy, and R&R.  
  
~LadyB  
  
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Broken Beyond Repair  
  
Chapter Two: Like a Lifeless Angel  
  
By: LadyBulma24  
  
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"She locked herself in one of the guest rooms down here since the...incident. She won't come out." Trunks paced the floor of his living room, his mother's best friend sitting on the snow leather couch listening to his version of what happened the night his mother fainted. He strode around from one end of the black carpet to the other, in the company of Goku, they had been in the living room for a while, conversing on the condition of his mother. The dim glow from the expensive Tiffany Laps Bulma had brought over a year ago lit up the usually murky living room, providing them with light in what was a very depressing conversational topic.  
  
Goku brought his hands from his knees to his chin, supporting his head as he pondered over the information that he had just been given about his best friend. A strand of his ebony bangs feel between both of his even darker eyes. He frowned profoundly, how could this have happened to Bulma? "Do you know how she's been holding up?" An appearance of genuine apprehension accented his statement like a bold explanation point.  
  
The younger of the two men finally stopped his pacing, Trunks walked over to Goku and sat next to him. "I don't know anything. She hasn't let me even come near her. She starts yelling hysterically if I go anywhere near the door."  
  
"Is there anything that I can do for you Trunks?" Questioned Goku. "I'll be more than happy to help, just name it and I'll do whatever I can." Everything that had been told about Goku over the ages was true, he was the most sympathetic person to walk the face of the Earth. And while others confused that concern for weakness, it was only a part of what made him the strongest man alive.  
  
"I'm sorry to say that there might not be much we can do." Trunks balled his hands up into fists over his pants, he bunched up the material into an atrocious bundle. "If only I hadn't opened my mouth...I should have just kept quiet." He grunted in frustration. "I'm the reason she's like this now Goku! If she's a vegetable for the rest of her life, it's because of me!"  
  
Trunks' cries bounced off of the walls surrounding them, falling dead on the floor after their effect has worn off. "Trunks, she'll come around. All of this was bottling up inside of her. Think of it this way, in the long run you might have been doing her a favor. There's no telling what she might have done to herself if angered alone." Goku tried to reassure the younger Saiyan that everything would be all right, but how could he, if in reality he didn't even know if his best friend was going to be all right? "I'll go talk to her."  
  
Protest came next from the collection of Trunks' emotions that were being held on display at the moment. "But I don't know how much you can get into her, I tried."  
  
A clap of thunder roared outside of the window a few feet way from them, the sky turning post-apocalyptic for an instant, before rain began to pore down from the heaven like ashes. An omen? Maybe. Drops of rain splattered against the princess cut windowpane. Goku opened his mouth to speak, in a rather strained voice, Goku said, "You said so yourself, you were the one that started this." Deciding finally to take to his feet, moving a few inches away from the couch where he previously sat. "It might be best if someone other than you talked to her for once." He smiled politely.  
  
It seemed that the youth agreed. "You're right Goku," Trunks paused for a moment. "You go talk to her, I'll see if I can get Akira on the phone."  
  
Goku nodded as he watched Trunks disappear into the kitchen, he stood alone for a moment before everything registered. His best friend was going insane, all because her husband had taken off and left her alone, without even giving Bulma so much as a good-bye. He could see where that would upset any other woman, but how could his friend be at the insanity's door? It was impossible, sure other women could fall to their knees over a man but how could his Bulma be so tragically effected over Vegeta's departure? Last time he checked, sure Vegeta and Bulma had a stable marriage, and of course they were happy together, but were they really madly in love? Since when had something so simple turned into, well, this? So they had bonded, big deal. Even Goku knew that a lack of love could cause even the strongest of Saiyan bonds crashing down to hell. Knowing all of that, could it really have been possible for is best friend to go insane over Vegeta?  
  
No...Goku shook his head, the raven color in his hair blending into the darkness around him. Anyone but his Bulma. She was just so brave, so strong, so unlike other women. That's what made her so special... that's what made her Bulma Briefs. Rising his fist to knock on the white wood of Bulma's bedroom door, Goku fidgeted imperceptibly, what would she look like when he opened the door? Would she be sick? Would she be ugly, once more he shook his head. Even in her worse of times, Bulma had never looked in the least bit unattractive to him. She always had been, always would be, the image of womanly perfection that his life referred to. For a second time, Goku brought up his balled up hand, only this time, he knocked as softly as he could.  
  
"Bulma, it's me."  
  
There was no response from within the room. Goku sighed and leaned onto the hardness of the door, putting his full weight on it. "Bulma-Chan please." He pounded his forehead onto the wood. "You can't hide in there forever."  
  
Still, no matter how hard he tried he was only rewarded by the stillness emitting itself the guestroom door. It felt as if he were talking to a wall, the way he was receiving nothing but silence as a response, and ironically enough, he was talking to a door.  
  
"Don't make me open the door, I don't want to have to pry it open Bulma." No matter what he was saying he was still standing out in the hallway, one hand on her silver doorknob, his forehead pressed to the coolness of her door, and his eyes downcast on the floor. "Please..."  
  
He spent a few minutes standing there, could she sincerely have been so depressed that she wouldn't even open the door to him? After his thoughts on deep contemplation Goku tightened his firm hold on the doorknob, not thinking twice about springing it loose allowing him entrance to the guestroom where Bulma was confined to. With a soft clanging clamor, the door gave way, opening partly with a creak. What Goku saw, scared him to death.  
  
There lay his blue-haired angel, in a massive bed nearly double the size of a kind bed, white sheets as far as the eye could see. Her cerulean stands were spread out pointing in all directions known to man, her skin nearly as ashen as the silk sheets around her. The sight of her broke Goku's heart. She was usually so bright and so full of life. Those eyes, would they have been open they would have lacked the light that made her who she was. They would have been in subterranean need of existence, and would it have not been for the small rise and fall of her womanly breasts, he would have thought her dead. Everything about her was just so empty, so drained of any life. Bulma's face leaned in, her cheekbones dipping for the lack of nourishment on them. How long had it been since she had eaten last?  
  
In diminutive steps Goku made his way over to her bedside, hoping that there was some way to get through to her. The wind trickled in through the open window at her far right, blowing her bangs away softly. Everything in the room hissed corrosion and death, obscurity working in perfect harmony to the purposelessness all around him. He sighed to himself and knelt down by her side, would she open her eyes? Could fate spare him the sight of one more life lost right before his eyes? Anyone but her...  
  
Goku took one of her pale gentle hands in his own much more generously proportioned one, tightly holding onto it as if the contact of her skin was life itself. A few seconds passed him by before he had enough nerve to even being to think of what to do next; he brought her hand to his forehead, pressing her pallid ivory to his must tanner complexion. "Bulma?" Still there came no response from her, she was as lifeless as any dead person, not even the most trifling of evidence that she was alive. Again, he realized that her breath was the only thing signaling her existence.  
  
"Akira isn't home."  
  
Goku brought his head up from Bulma's hand, looking up to see Trunks leaning in on the open frame of Bulma's room, his muscular arms crossed over his chest strongly. He glanced at Goku, the way his eyes shot around desperately trying to think of something to do or say to bring his best friend back to life.  
  
"I tried her home, office and cell, all nothing."  
  
Apologetically, Goku sighed. "You did all you could Trunks." The end result, nothing. Bulma still lay there as if carved in stone, like a lifeless angel, clipped of its wings.  
  
At that very moment, Trunks brought his fist up away from his body, slamming it into the drywall with a hollow thunk. He groaned, pulled back his hand, and did it again and again until his fists were the source of streaming rivers of blood. "I killed her..."  
  
"No," Goku softly fingered Bulma's hand. "You didn't. Stop beating yourself up about that."  
  
Trunks growled. "You don't know. You weren't there to see the way she glared at me, to hear the words she said. She said I was killing her, Goku, I killed her!"  
  
It was obvious to them both now that no matter how much noise they made Bulma was not going to be so easily awakened with such a display of utter uproar. "TRUNKS!" Goku called out to him somewhat harshly, all to get his attention. "She's still breathing, see?"  
  
They both glanced at her unresponsive cadaver, it rose, it fell, and no reply. The sight did nothing more but flue the flame that burned inside of Trunks, the guilt feeding from the fire. He undid his hands from their positions as fists, and brought them outstretched to his forehead, running them back in a rough motion into his lavender hair. Trunks pulled violently at his hair, wanting desperately to hurt elsewhere other than his heart, blood smeared down his forehead like crimson tears. "I just should have driven a stake through her heart! At least then I would have been spared such a sight!"  
  
Goku understood where the young Saiyan, it was hard to control the hate, the longing, and the fear at his age, especially when you had such power flowing all the way through the viens in your body. "Trunks, be calm. She's your mother, not a vampire. She'll be just fine." He brought his free hand up to stroke her face, parting her aquatic bangs from Bulma's porcelain skin. Her demeanor; that china-doll appearance she gave off, her parted rose lips, were screaming his name, pulling at his heartstrings, crying out his name.  
  
With as much interest as bewilderment, Trunks observed the way that Goku touched his mother, there was such a tenderness there, something he had never seen in his 22 years of life. Never had he seen a man, or anyone for a matter, touch another human being in such a way. Love, hope, tenderness, and even the darkest hint of pining desire were recognizable in Goku's impression on his mother's face. Trunks was mutedly befuddled; had he missed a step? Despite his observations, Trunks said nothing.  
  
"Bulma-Chan." The voice filling the room was choking back sobs out of a type of manly superiority, something quiet uncharacteristic for Son Goku. "I'll do anything, just open your eyes." His hold on Bulma's hand tightened, not once letting it down from the position at his forehead. Each of his words, a secret whisper, the looks he sent her, laced with implication.  
  
Trunks was growing uneasy standing there, a mere onlooker to his mother's body and to the man praying her back to life. Clearing his throat for recognition, he wondered aloud, "Should I get anything?"  
  
Goku was pensive for a moment, his whole face turning somber and gray. "Ice water on a cloth." One of his large hands was run down from her forehead to her chin. "She's burning up."  
  
A concise nod, "Got it." And with that the third person was gone.  
  
It wasn't until Trunks was out of the room that Goku moved closer to Bulma, a part of him thinking that his closeness to her would make her respond, or even just open her eyes. "I'll stay here as long as it takes, just please, wake up."  
  
Seconds later, Trunks returned, towel in hand and the bloody remains far from his princely face. "Here." He tossed the cream-colored cloth over to Goku; water streaming from it as it covered distance through air. Goku caught it with ease in one of his outsized hands, the right one.  
  
"Arigatou."  
  
Trunks acknowledged the thanks with a grunt and nod of his head, still standing in the doorway not knowing what else he was expected to do. The least he could think of was watching for the long awaited rejoinder from his delicately stated mother. His ocean eyes surveyed all actions brought on upon from Goku, the wiping of the cloth against her forehead shoving her sweet bangs aside, followed by something that surprised him. Upon bringing the material in contact with her sallow skin, a sharp draw of breath could be heard, her chest rising higher than ever before. An action, a response, a sign of hope.  
  
"She-"  
  
"Yeah..." Responded Goku, unable to tare his eyes off of Bulma who had yet to release the heavy breath of air she had taken in seconds ago. At last, she let it go, her body sinking into the covers as if falling a great distance from above. "I guess the ice water helped her..." Once more, Goku's voice trailed, it seemed he could not manage to keep it steady, it rose and fell with such uncertainty.  
  
"Kuso!"  
  
Goku glanced up. "Nani?"  
  
"I have to go get Bra." Trunks sighed. "She still doesn't know about this." He said referring to his sister 13 years in his minor.  
  
"How come?"  
  
Trunks handed Goku a very serious look. "Do you honestly think that she could handle something like this? I don't."  
  
Comically, Goku placed his hand behind his neck and smiled lopsidedly. "You're right. What are you going to tell her? Where has she been for the past four days?"  
  
Trunks walked into the room for a moment, towards his mother's bed, and looked down on her fallen figure. "She's been with Pan for a few days, I told Gohan Bu-er...my mother wasn't feeling so well. He promised to look after Bra."  
  
Goku knitted his eyebrows together over his coal eyes. "Nani? Gohan knew? And he didn't tell me?"  
  
"Not exactly, I told him she wasn't feeling well, I never told him what happened."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Both men cast their sympathetic fleeting looks down at Bulma.  
  
"I'll be right back with Bra. We can talk to her about his later." Trunks tossed over his shoulder, making his way over to the door once again.  
  
The older Saiyan nodded. "Right. I'll watch over Bulma."  
  
Trunks gave him a meek smile. "Arigatou."  
  
His eyes had returned to Bulma's body. "Don't mention it Trunks." Just as Trunks was leaving, Goku called out to him, "Hey Trunks?"  
  
"Hai?"  
  
Goku was ill at ease for a moment, before he spoke. "Is it really wise to bring Bra into this?"  
  
Trunks saw where Goku was coming from, something as horrible as this could traumatize Bra for years to come. "I don't know Goku, I can't leave her out of this for much longer either."  
  
"Yeah..." Nodded Goku absently, knowing that Trunks was right. It wasn't fair to either of them to keep Bra in the dark about her mother's well being.  
  
"I'll ask Gohan for his advice, I'll be back."  
  
"Ok. Good luck."  
  
"Arigatou, I'll need it."  
  
With that, the youth left the room and took off out of the house, leaving Bulma's life in the hands of Goku. Trunks knew that he could not have asked for a better person to watch after the being of his mother, not even Kami himself could do a better job.  
  
~*~  
  
REVIEW!  
  
REVIEW!!  
  
REVIEW!!!  
  
All comments, flames, suggestions, anything else, are welcome. ^_^ 


	3. Chapter Three: Insanity brings out the b...

DISCLAIMER: No, for the last time, I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. I'm just this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. So since I don't own, nor do I have any money, suing is just out of the question. MOVE ON!  
  
-----  
  
Summary: A chain of dramatic events leave Bulma thinking, will she notice what her life's been missing all along? Will she leave Vegeta and run into the arms of someone else, or will she forgive him? And with the changes going on, how many marriages will be put in danger?  
  
-----  
  
AN:  
  
Thanks for all the reviews. Every lil bit counts, and by the looks of it, I don't think I should leave just yet. People haven't flamed me yet (hope they never do) so, here's ch. 3  
  
I've gotten a few IMs and emails, even reviews asking me if this is going to be a G/B or B/V. Ya know what?! I'm not telling! ^_____^ ::evil laugh:: And just when you thought you knew where it's going, it's not. So don't try and be lyke "oh I kno what's going on" because I'm just gonna shock the hell outta you later. ::smirk:: You'll just have to wait and see. It could really go either waii.  
  
Enjoy, and don't forget to leave meeh some luv!!  
  
~LadyB AKA Bulma Briefs  
  
~*~  
  
Word 411:  
  
Ano- Um.../uh..../er....  
  
Nani- What  
  
Demo- But/however/yet  
  
~*~  
  
------  
  
Broken Beyond Repair  
  
Rated: R  
  
Chapter Three: Insanity brings out the best of me  
  
Written by: The Brilliant Lady Bulma *formally known as LadyBulma24*  
  
-----  
  
The silver crescent moon was gone, not that it was ever really there to begin with, but whatever light that was being given off by it was now covered with the blanket of thick clouds. Rain had ceased; the stars were out, things were much calmer than they once had been. At one point during his visit with Bulma, Goku had noticed that the black wire gates of Capsule Corp. was slamming heavily, banging like the running of the bulls in Spain. But now, things were much more tranquil, the only sound here and there was the light running of drips and drops of left over rain hanging from the roof. A gust of coldness forever lingered in the ambiance all around them, even now that the window had been shut, it was there. The type of cold that wasn't essentially perturbed, but more the kind that made one feel somewhat alone, that made one long for someone at their side, someone to hold and caress.  
  
The rain had continued as it always did after a storm, which had been earlier, leaving the pitter-patter of drizzling on the window panels in a mesmerizing cadence long after its departure. The rain, along with the squall of arctic winds every so often and the graying clouds of rain overhead, were making out for a type of longing, almost as if the gods were crying out in yearning themselves. Goku focused on Bulma for a minute more; the gods were lamenting, for a seraph had fallen. He reached out and held onto her hand again, the siren outspread in bed... despondently, was still at death's door, merely waiting for him to open up.  
  
A teal fire burned in his soul, pouring out through his eyes. He was going to do everything and anything he could do to stop this injustice, he was going to save her. Dammit! He could save the world over and over again but he couldn't even get his best friend to open her eyes...what kind of hero was he? The Saiyan lowered his head in shame; he wasn't worthy of the love and respect of the world. Not if one of the things that meant the most to him in his life, was dying in his hands. Goku blinked back a moisture brimming up into his ebony orbs.  
  
"A-and then you looked up at me with your big blue eyes and said 'I can't believe you're actually getting married'." A strained laugh followed, strained with the hurt of her lack of reactions. "Come on Bulma! You have to remember something!" Supplicated Goku, tugging at her small, child-like hands that were still cold as ice. "Remember anything....for the love of Kami!" His eyes searched her, an expression hurt beyond the capture of words crossed his face and eyes, knotting up his youthful attractive looks into a somber manifestation. Had Bulma's eyes been open, she would have been able to watch him age greatly in mere seconds. Years were minutes; her condition really was weighing down on him.  
  
No matter how hard he prayed, how loud he yelled, or how much time he spent looking at her unresponsive remains, she never bulged even the slightest of muscles, apart from her regular breathing. Once more, the humidity dared to knock for entrance in his disposition, Goku was forced to blink everything back like before. It seemed that every time he looked down on her there was a dull ache in his chest, voices clouding in the back of his head. She was so delicate, the way her legs tilted over one another and the way her body turned under the sheets, made her appear as if she were carved out of the most tenuous of glass. This brought a shutter to his body, starting at the nape of his neck and exploding down at his spine. What a thought, it was downright ludicrous.  
  
As the very thought of her being arranged from glass crept up into the most sacred parts of his sanity, Goku loosened his death-grip on her hand, he was now well aware that one misplaced squeeze and he could easily kill her, not that he ever would. Goku moved his eyes down to his hands, letting go of Bulma's hand all together. He turned his fists into open palms, the hands that had murdered millions, saved the lives of just as many. With one single motion, the woman at his side could nothing more than a pile of broken bones, shattering her into the death she fought off at the moment. Why would he do that? Why on Earth would anyone hurt such a visionary? He knew he had the strength to, with one hand he could eradicate her entirely. Yet even if it were her life or his, he would rather end himself then to ever bring harm to Bulma. Goku brought his hands to his lap over the carroty shade of his fighting GI, his eyes following in hot pursuit.  
  
"Can't you remember anything? Won't you open your eyes?" His whisper came from his lips in a startled rasp, never looking up to face her. "For your children, your family." Goku returned his ablaze embers to the divinity on the divan next to him. He paused, and leaned down near her, brining his essence down until it was neighboring her own, and catching her hand in his yet again. "For me."  
  
That was the last thing he remembered when he brought his forehead down to touch her hand entwine with his, laying on the comfort of the bed. Then at last Goku managed to shut his eyes in release, the darkness dulling the pain of being awake. He dreamt of a place where his pleas of her awakening were no longer the lullabies that soothed her to the imprisonment of her own insanity.  
  
~*~  
  
Being the heavy sleeper that he usually was, the fact that awakening him was the feather like clatter of ruffling sheets only inches away from his face was rather shocking. Goku fasten his eyes into a bunch, opening them seconds later, trying to adjust his eyes to the vividness of the new light brought to his attention. Now, to search for the source that had made him wake up in the first place.  
  
"Ano..." Goku looked around, not finding a thing. Nothing, not even Bulma lying at his side. "BULMA?!" He started to push the covers aside, the naïve side of him thinking that she might be buried under the title wave of snow- white silk. Parting the covers with his hands, Goku was shocked to find that she was no where. "BULMA?!" Pure adrenaline pumping through his veins.  
  
Suddenly, everything around him started to slow down in a heavenly pace, tranquillity talking over the oddly white room all over again. There was the figure that he had been looking fore, hunched up in the corner near the headboard of the oak bed. The female hugged her knees up to her chest, her over sized shirt hanging loosely off of her body, putting her knees and legs on display, and it even seemed that her frame was shaking.  
  
"Bulma...?"  
  
A pair of immense nautical eyes glanced up at the speaking male, yet she never replied to his comment. Rather she tugged at her knees, delivering them as close as possible to her body. She could feel him watching and waiting for any type of reaction, still everything could not register in her mind.  
  
Leaving her to her thoughts for the time being, Goku gave up on receiving a reaction from Bulma so he brought himself up from his chair and sat at the edge of the bed. There was the slightest trace of humor in his eyes. "Bulma! I can't believe you're awake!!" The sleep, which had previously dawned on him, was no where near his appearance now.  
  
But however pleased he seemed to be now that she was awake, it all disappeared with twice the speed once he noticed she was better off asleep. For her previously shut eyes were now wide open, confirming his worse type of fears. Goku found his hands shaking as he kept eyes on Bulma, still hoping for a change. Discouragement greeted him with a vengeance in the form of her eyes, once blue, once vibrant, once so alive. Were it not for her pupils, her dim spears were better off dyed white; she was as comatose as she was colorless.  
  
"Ah, Bulma?" Finally the foreboding feeling she was causing him began to wear off. "Can you hear me?"  
  
His words flew on broken wings; she didn't even budge. Trying in vein to obtain some life from her, Goku conveyed his hand to touch her ivory flesh. The good news? She responded. The bad news? Her very fist sign of recognition to life outside of herself and it cleaved his heart to shreds. The second his hand was positioned within inches of her face, Bulma cringed as if his hands were burning hot coals.  
  
"Bulma no, I was-" The dull ache had returned to his chest, a million times stronger each time that he focused on her, how she was trying as hard as she could to bring a distance between them. "I'm just-" Goku reached out to her again.  
  
Has she any control over her voice, if she even had a voice, the Saiyan was sure Bulma would have screamed. Like an animal cowering in pure trepidation, her body was nearly one with her bed headboard. Her body was shaking vigorously, the little color left in her face and eyes managing to find a way to leave her again. Goku coped by controlling his face; that did not mean that his mind was not the one betraying him. The voices were back.... Would he cause his best friend to return to her statue-like state? Was she scared of him? And most importantly, why?!  
  
"Bulma-Chan." Cooed Goku, leisurely closing the distance between them to show her that he meant her no harm. "Come here, I won't hurt you." As the words left his lips, he watched her eyes contract, a bit of normality returning to them.  
  
An eternity past them, then her lips came apart and her sweet melody flowed from them like the choir of God. "Y-you....stayed w-with me.....a-all n- night?" If there was any emotion left in her voice, it was surprise. Her voice was small, shaking, candid and hardly above the softest of whispers.  
  
In a flash of orange brilliance, he covered the vastness between them, sitting merely milliseconds away from her. Just the simple act of her speaking a simple phrase had brought an end to the pain, all because she was all right. Without having to think twice, Goku had wound both of his arms around Bulma. She let out the smallest of all sighs, her mounds of ocean hair cascading down Goku's back, while her cheek pressed to his stone shoulder.  
  
"Of course I stayed!" For a brief second he pulled his best friend back by the shoulders, proving to her that their closeness was indeed real. Both of Goku's hands rested on either side of Bulma's plummeted shoulders, their eyes locked tightly. He took this time to examine pick apart the feelings in her soul through those profound crystal eyes of hers, his reward, nothing. It was still as if the inside of her was consumed, not the slightest trace of anything.  
  
Bulma blinked; braking the staring match that she appeared to be having with Goku by sending her eyes down to the covers. Quickly, her face followed the downward motion. "G-gomen nasai...f-for making you stay."  
  
Her words stunned him. "Nani?"  
  
"Gomen, for everything. I don't remember what happened," Bulma admitted. "Demo...Ano...if you came down here, it must've been serious."  
  
This time around, Bulma's words brought a genuine grin to his orifice. "Bulma, I would have been down here even if you had gotten a paper cut." Said Goku, through his smile. "Just to make sure you're ok." To his surprise, Bulma let a strong slash of crimson march on her cheeks. When her eyes met his a few minutes later it made him beam to see color gradually returning to her.  
  
"Y-you're very...kind." Her voice was almost inaudible.  
  
Goku knitted his eyebrows together, she was acting different. "Huh? There was nothing kind about it. You're my best friend, I have the right to worry about you."  
  
When he spoke, it caused her to keep her eyes away from him even more. "O- oh."  
  
All right, he decided, something really was going on here. And he was going to get to the bottom of this. Was she hurt? Could she stand? What was bothering her? "Bulma? What's wrong."  
  
She snapped her head up at the sound of what she assumed must have been her name; it had been called an awful lot of times, so she gathered that was what people called her. "............." Just because she looked up, didn't mean she was going to answer him right away. Even if she had had the intentions on answering the kind stranger, her voiced failed her all together.  
  
Goku looked at her questioningly.  
  
"G-gomen, I....I...." She paused for a moment, clearing her throat in a soundless motion. "I c-can't seem to remember....who you are."  
  
His smile faded, his eyes shook, he released Bulma. "You what?!"  
  
Judging that her words had upset the foreigner, Bulma fixed her eyes on a painting hanging above a desk on the other side of the white room. "I can't seem to remember you." Said Bulma, her voice this time was perfect, never once wavering.  
  
Had it not been for his pride, Goku would have stood up and destroyed something. He shut his eyes tightly, bunching his hands up into balls. He had to have been dreaming...he had to...yeah that was it, he was dreaming.... Dreaming....  
  
"Ano...."  
  
"Nani?!" Nevertheless, he never opened his eyes.  
  
Bulma rubbed her temples with one of her pale fingers, letting her eyelids close over her eyes for a second or two before opening them again. "E- everything is fuzzy." Came her strained reply. "T-there are t-things I can't remember....others that f-flash back and forth..."  
  
Goku glared up at her, to their surprise his eyes were as narrow as slits. Bulma felt forced to brake the glower again, her eyes landed in refuge on the open window. The sun was starting to peak up on the horizon. "How can you not remember?" Goku growled something he rarely did.  
  
"I-I don't know." She felt scared, alone, like a child having done wrong.  
  
Her guest moved closer to her, this time, she did not move one bit. Rather Bulma found herself motionless, a gulp passing down her peach-colored throat. His face was inches away from her own again, she brought her hand up to touch his tan cheek, hoping that with the action of contact something would be sparked in her memory that was flashing on and off like a burning light bulb. "Believe me, I want to remember you." Bulma spoke from her heart, she closed her eyes to listen to it. "I have hurt you, haven't I?"  
  
OF COURSE YOU HAVE! He wanted to yell at her. But Goku knew better than that, this was not Bulma's fault. She had no control over these things. Goku sighed, if anyone was at responsibility in this set of unfortunate circumstances it was the Saiyan no Ouji, Vegeta.  
  
"Shh, we'll work on this."  
  
She found herself wound up in his arms again, in the short time it was something she had gotten accustomed to. Had no one ever held her that way before....?? "Help me remember." She pushed onto her knees, so that she was finally eye-level with the much taller male holding her.  
  
Goku pulled back, seriously looking at her, was helping her something he could do? "What is it?"  
  
No reply...just actions. Her arms tugged at his neck, demanding him closer to her. "J-just this..." her mind flickered. "Just hold..." Then there came no more words. When Goku stole a glimpse of her out of the corner of his shadowy eyes, it almost looked as if she were sleeping again. Just when he had thoughts of bringing up his hand to touch her, Bulma jerked out of his arms, looking up at him, color flashing in and out of her eyes in bursts of sparkle and shadow.  
  
"Are you feeling better now?"  
  
Bulma tried her damnedest to make her slender hand come to push a few strands of her bands out of her face. Her hand was a few seconds shy of its destination when Goku finished of the favor with his larger hand. The blue smoothness flowed like water through his touch. "I-I g-guess I'm...ok..." Bulma let her eyes shut slowly at Goku's touch, she sought to memorize everything going on around her. There was something going on, she couldn't seem to keep things in her mind for more than a couple of minutes. She had already forgotten how she had gotten there, then it dawned on her...and then it vanished. "....now..."  
  
He traced his fingers from her nose to her chin, cupping her face delicately in his hand. "Good." Goku followed the comment with his famous smile.  
  
Out of all the times that he had looked at Bulma and smiled in the past years of knowing her, there was something that gave the impression that this time was different. Something was not setting right' there was a change. Focusing her eyes on Goku, Bulma swore the air around her tightened. "I'm glad you're feeling better." Goku interrupted her current train of thought. Before she could find her voice to respond, Goku had once again wrapped her into his arms. Bulma's head fell into the crock of his neck and shoulder he whispered in her ear. "I was really worried about you."  
  
Shutters were sent down her spine, Bulma felt like she was about to melt in his arms. "Gomen." Her voice broke.  
  
"Oh hey, no you don't have to apologize." Gently he moved his arms down around her lower back, trying to calm her. But it didn't go as he had planned; she began to shake more than ever. "Shhhh." It was then that he recognized the fact that the angel in his arms was crying. "You're gonna be ok Bulma. Shhhh."  
  
Racked with her own sobs, with her voice quaking as well, Bulma said to Goku, "I won't be ok!" each of her words were followed by a heart wrenching sob. "I can't remember a thing!" She buried her face in the fabric of his orange GI. "I worried you, I hurt you! I could read it all!"  
  
Goku relocated his hand up from around her waist, running his fingers through her aquatic silk of her hair. For a moment, she stiffened at his touch as if he were going to do something to her, something to bring destruction to her. Then cautiously she learned to relax around him. Goku pulled her closer, knowing that was she needed right now was to get all of the tears out of her system and for someone to just hold her.  
  
"Shhhh." He rolled his lips together, bringing his own cheek to rest on her hair. "It's best you don't remember what had happened."  
  
Bulma moved her face up, not bothering to pull away from Goku this time, tears ran down her cheeks like rivers of inner turmoil. "Please Goku. Tell me, what happened." She drew in a gasp, cutting it in half every time she sobbed. Her small hands were brought up to his face, one hand on either side of his lean façade. "Tell me please." This time, it seemed that they had gotten closer.  
  
Her hands kissed down on his face, cold as ice, yet hotter than hell. Goku wasn't fully aware of their closeness and the ways it could have been misinterpreted until he felt the tip of her nose brush against his own; her impassioned breath lingering on his upper lip. Ok...he knew that now they were too close, and yet, there was nothing he could do to move. "Bulma..."  
  
"Tell me." Bulma shut her eyes, ending their silent debate on their intimacy by pressing her forehead to his own, keeping her hands on his visage. Her eyes only snapped open once, brilliant blue on endless ebony, that was when they were looking dead into Goku's own. "What's going on here?" Her entreaty was expressed almost wordlessly, as unspoken as their own uncertainty.  
  
This was wrong, this was confusing, this was....something he was not even going to try to stop; he knew it was beyond his power. Goku cleared his throat, trying like hell not to move and finish this deed. But it was impossible, he couldn't think stright, not with a dazed blue-haired deity kneeling in front of him with her face less than 2 seconds away from his own 2 seconds away from his eyes...his lips. He tried to shake his head, those thoughts had to go. "What happened? What's going on." Her voice rang like heaven as she hardly rasped it out of her mouth, her cheery-pale lips trembling for a second. Oh what he wouldn't give to end their wavering. All he had to do was lean down and...  
  
"Yes Kakkarot," A third voice chimed in, gruff and enraged. "What the fuck is going on here?"  
  
~*~  
  
Oooooo what an evil cliffhanger, eh? ^____^ You'll just have to review so that I can write the next chapter to find out what's gonna happen! Aren't I just evil?? ::innocent smile::  
  
~*~  
  
REVIEW!  
  
REVIEW!!  
  
REVIEW!!!  
  
All comments, flames, suggestions, anything else, are welcome. ^_^ 


	4. Chapter Four: Nothing to his eyes, just ...

DISCLAIMER: No, for the last time, I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. I'm just this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. So since I don't own, nor do I have any money, suing is just out of the question. MOVE ON!  
  
-----  
  
Summary: A chain of dramatic events leave Bulma thinking, will she notice what her life's been missing all along? Will she leave Vegeta and run into the arms of someone else, or will she forgive him? And with the changes going on, how many marriages will be put in danger?  
  
-----  
  
AN:  
  
As always, major thanks to those of you who read this story and take the time to review it. MONSTER thanks to Goku, my little muse!! Without him, I don't think I would know where this story is going. ^____^ Thanks again Goku, this chapter wouldn't be out here if it weren't for you. I kinda drew a blank after last chapter.... ::smiles nervously:: So of course, thanks to Goku and all of my precious readers, which isn't many. But either way thanks to all of you.  
  
Also sorry that this chapter took a bit longer than usual to get out. I've started school now .. A girl can only dream.  
  
Happi reading to all of my readers, and enjoy reading as much as I do writing this fic. Remember to leave meeh a lil luv on your way out, and thank you, come again. ^___^ Now without further rambling from me, chapter four.  
  
~LadyB AKA Bulma Briefs  
  
~*~  
  
Word 411:  
  
Demo- but  
  
Baka- idiot  
  
Onna- Woman  
  
------  
  
Broken Beyond Repair  
  
Rated: R  
  
Chapter Four: Nothing to his eyes, just an object.  
  
Written by: The Brilliant Lady Bulma *formally known as LadyBulma24*  
  
-----  
  
"Yes Kakkarot," A third voice chimed in, gruff and enraged. "What the fuck is going on here?"  
  
Neither of the accused victims had the slightest idea of what to say, how to say it, what do to, or how to do it whenever the action came to mind. That was of course, if a mode of action ever did come to them. Out of sheer instinct, Goku wrapped his arms tighter around Bulma; the deed had earned him something he had subconsciously expected. The mere sight of Vegeta sent her into a frenzy of traumatized quivering, causing both members of the guilty party to waver faintly. A helpless quarry of amnesia or not, in the back of her mind the very scared Ms. Bulma Briefs could hear the voices of wounded angels, crying out to her: 'This is the man that hurt you. Broke you. Left you broken beyond repair.'  
  
As if an omen of the lord above them, the sky thundered, shaking the house down to its very core. Just when the storm was letting up, Vegeta had to show up, and if that was not enough to satisfy his destructive need, all of hell was at his back. Forgotten was the rising morning sun, the environment residing outside of the walls of Capsule Corp. was better off existing in the heart of the hours of darkness.  
  
"Vegeta," Alleged Goku, attempting to masquerade his astonishment. "What are you doing here?"  
  
The prince before them both scoffed royally, "This is my home." Vegeta placed unneeded emphasis on the word 'my'. "I have rights to be here."  
  
Goku could not bring himself to say another word for the other Saiyan was right, this was indeed the home he shared with his wife. The woman that currently was found entwined in his arms. "Rights are yours, no doubt about it, but with those rights come forth a large amount responsibility." Frustration fortifying his statement. "Where have you been?"  
  
"You sound like the baka!" Vegeta snorted, lifting his hand broadly to temporarily point at Bulma without the slightest hint of care. "So pipe down! I'll be the one asking the questions here Kakkarot. What the bloody hell are you doing here in my home?" Vegeta's words were a sharp retort of the tongue, a double-bladed sword of fidelity, a contrast to the sight his raven eyes observed. The ultimate accomplishment of unfaithfulness, his woman and her best friend, the very same man that he considered his greatest adversary. After a few seconds flew by them, Vegeta turned is narrowed eyes to the point where they were nearly invisible. "Do not make me repeat myself!" He roared.  
  
It seemed that the deafening lexis Vegeta had chosen was tuning out the claps of thunder originating miles away from them. Not knowing what else to do, Bulma lowered her hands from Goku's face and brought her arms around his sturdy décolletage, burying her tear-stained façade in the sanctuary of his shoulder. The demons in Vegeta's head began to play tricks on him, muttering things to him and pointing things out that he might not have found disturbing otherwise. He smirked elusively, it was amazing to see the clarity that came with psychotic jealousy. Had the woman always resorted to that third-class baka as if he were her savior and lord whenever times got rough? Had Kakkarot always touched her as if she were made of sugar and glass? Had he been blind to this all along? Rage pumped through his veins replacing his blood with abhorrence intended toward Kakkarot.  
  
Goku could feel the way Vegeta was looking at him, just as easily he could read the thoughts his prince was having. It was precisely that effortless for Goku. "I am here for Bulma," he spoke never once looking up from Bulma's still shaking figure. "Because you cannot be."  
  
In a snap of golden inferno, the ebony warrior became a fuming demon. "Do not tell me what I can and cannot do for my onna Kakkarot! You know nothing of these things, obviously. Here you are troubling yourself over a problem that is mine, while your own marriage falls to shambles." The indifference of Vegeta's expression shot through Goku like a knife. "Unhand my onna." Goku blinked; not my wife, lover, or mother of my children, but straightforwardly declared as his woman. Had that man no emotions?! Was he blind to the way Bulma shook everytime he parted his mouth to deliver a verbal blow to the chest at either of them?  
  
"Just great, what are you doing here?"  
  
Every head in the room crooked to the open door, where a lavender youth stood glaring knives at his father. Behind his the leg of his blue jeans, stood a miniature Bulma, his sister and his liability.  
  
"I'd hold my tongue if I were you brat." Vegeta fiercely glared at the boy possessing many of his quality, at the moment they appeared nearly identical with the face of resentment serving as their mask.  
  
Trunks balled his hands into iron fist at his side, careful not to damage his sister. If he brought hurt to his sister, then he would be no better than the man he was forced to identify as his father. "Well you're not me," Trunks held onto his sister, pushing her behind him. "If you were, you'd be around a hell of a lot more."  
  
The volume of the room was rising, the space decreasing. Bulma glimpsed up out of one of her eyes, unhurriedly she allowed herself to open the other. To her, the room had become one undersized chamber of apprehension and wrath coming from each of its inhabitants.  
  
"Your irrational mother spoiled you, brat. A mistake you will live your life regretting." Vegeta did not seem to care if the individual before him was the incarnation of his first seed; to him anyone in his way would be taught a lesson.  
  
Trunks sneered. "She might have spoiled me, but you were never around to stop it were you?" He watched his father congealed with brutality responsively. The look in Trunks' eyes dared Vegeta to say something, anything, to prove him wrong.  
  
And his father did just that, however, not in the embodiment of words, rather the prince chose actions. In a blur of gold Vegeta had brought his hands up around the neck of his son, lifting the much taller half-Saiyan up by the neckline. This brought Bulma up from Goku's arms, wanting to rush out and do something. But Goku would not let the distraught creature out of his arms, knowing that if she were to interfere at the moment, Vegeta would hurt her too. That was something that Goku was not going to allow to happen, he would gladly destroy the one entitled the prince of their dead race before that occurred. Bulma could only sit helplessly in the arms of her best friend, examination the face of her son, the way it took on a tint as lavender as his hair when his father applied more pressure to his throat. Tears welled up in Bulma's eyes but she was not the only one expressing her hurt in the form of tears. Her daughter, Bra, stood in the doorway, hands trembling and tears running down her face at an incredible pace.  
  
"T-t-t-Trunks-Kun!!"  
  
Her cries went unaided, like mother like daughter. Bra looked around; her large blue eyes handed to her by her mother filling with more tears than confusion. Sure, a father had never really been something she could depend on as she grew into the girl she had become, but were all of those lies really true? Was the man she knew as her father actually a cold-blooded murderer? Was he a monster? She quaked, then not knowing what else to do, Bra ran to the bed where her mother and Goku sat restraining her at full speed. "MAMA!!"  
  
The thick haze of amnesia lifted from Bulma's mind for a moment, allowing passage to some clarity. "Bra, honey." Bulma felt Goku let go of her long enough to warp her arms around the small version of herself. "It's alright, we'll be fine..."  
  
"D-d-demo...what's wrong with d-daddy...."  
  
Bulma winced at the melodic innocence of her daughter's voice. So young, so ingenuous, so completely clueless. Her arms tightened around Bra, trying her best to calm her child. At that very moment Bulma's body responded to a pair of arms around her, she found that Goku had fixed his hold on her as well. Responsively, the blue-haired woman welcomed such intimacy; knowing in the back of her mind it was for her own protection. Bra noticed the change in her mother although her childish mind thought nothing of it.  
  
"I don't know, love." Bulma focused her big blue eyes on the actions of her murderous husband. Terror lapped around those orbs, she could do nothing but watch the golden devil squeeze the life from their first born son. The thought, not to mention the fact, that the being before her was her husband sickened the woman in Goku's arms immensely. But what could she, or any of them for that matter, do to stop the Saiyan prince? Absolutely nothing.  
  
"He's going to kill him." Muttered Bulma absently, forgetting momentarily about the presence of her daughter.  
  
"N-nani?!" the cries of the child came sharp, nearly incoherently. Bra was worried for her older brother.  
  
Goku observed. "No, he's not."  
  
Bra's influential ears perked up.  
  
"Yes!" Her face became set in determination  
  
There came a sigh of desperation from Bulma. How could Goku be so optimistic about Trunks' well being when the poor boy looked as ashen as his mother had earlier been? Whatever made Goku so damn carefree, Bulma wanted some. With the events having taken place lately, it was enough to drive anyone to such levels of desperation. She wanted so much to believe that truly everything would work out for the best, however, watching one's first born child have a close encounter with death never really did much for hope. Bulma shut her eyes, lay her head back, and groaned.  
  
What a day....  
  
Just when Goku took notice of uncharacteristic sense of calm that began to govern his best friend, peace was shattered. In an abrupt uproar of drywall debris and super-human strength the two blue-haired females were as alter as a military soldier. The sight before them convinced the onlookers that they had missed a step. No, not only a step had they missed, but a whole damn latter of proceedings leading up to the current happening. Somehow, Trunks had overthrown the death-grip coming from his father, gaining the obvious upper hand. Trunks was now the one handing out the glares down at his father, his aquatic eyes were as narrow as they could go.  
  
"Seems the baka onna did do something right." Sneered Vegeta, bringing his gloved hand up to rid his lisp of a ribbon of crimson blood. "Here I was thinking that I would have to kill you."  
  
Trunks took a few steps away from the man he was shamed to call father; up reaching his desired distance, Trunks spun around. "I guess growing up without a father has its perks." His lavender locks became prisoners of the wind, bending to its ministrations.  
  
Momentary waves of disgust flowed through Vegeta's system. Such a waste of obvious Saiyan power in the body that yielded eyes with such human emotion. The irony of it was down right comical. "Weak and a liar."  
  
Bra hopped away from her mother, relocating herself at the foot of the bed, which brought her much closer to Trunks. She lowered her head to the confinement of her red fabric dress when it was obvious that Trunks ignored her presence. Bra sighed.  
  
"Liar?" The inquirement took on a mocking tone of voice. "Are you trying to tell me you were around?"  
  
Crossing his arms on his chest classically, Vegeta spoke, "I am."  
  
Trunks then handed the prince the shock her never expected; the youth erupted in hysterical laughter. "Now you're just a bold-face lying bastard."  
  
The prince dropped his arms from before his stone-solid chest, seemed the brat was full of surprises today. "Are you blind?!"  
  
Contemptuously, Trunks displayed the perfect amount of recognition. "Of course father," He spat the final word with heave resent. "How could I have forgotten?" They all listened, curious to where this was going.  
  
Trunks continued. "You were always around."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "Finally you see reason brat."  
  
This time, it appeared Trunks had not taken offense to the older Saiyan's comment. Rather, a heredity smirk dawned on his lips. "You were always around for a quickie."  
  
Bulma's eyes widened as her mind struggled to register the words having been said. "Trunks!"  
  
"You see her as nothing!" Trunks proceeded with his accusations, ignoring his mother's plea. "You don't deserve her! You-"  
  
Vegeta lowered down to the normal dark state he possessed then he silenced Trunks the best and only way he knew how. A sharp blow to the jaw suppressed Trunks in mid-sentence. "Silence boy."  
  
A side of Trunks no one in the room had ever seen began to shine into the inhumanely white room in a flash or rage. Turquoise flame pored from his eyes, the luminosity of the sun from his hair.  
  
"Stop it...."  
  
The father and son glared at one another.  
  
"I dare you." Vegeta taunted Trunks. "Prepare a death wish."  
  
In a maddening scream and a blinding exhibit of lights, Trunks' fury reached its peak. "I'm going to make you regret the damage you cause her!"  
  
"Please," small sobs rained elsewhere in the room. "Kami make it stop..."  
  
Vegeta laughed sinisterly. "I'd love to see you try brat."  
  
"End all the pain."  
  
Goku brought up his gentle hand from Bulma's shoulder to the back of her head. He smoothed away her sweated bangs. "It's ok Bulma." At his touch, she relocated herself in his arms, now resting her head under his own.  
  
"Hold me?" she asked timidly. "Stop the hurt?"  
  
"Of course." It made senses to him as to why such a sight would have shattered her already delicate mind. Her beloved son and her...well...Vegeta, fighting. How could someone expect her to be ok? The poor woman, her body shook like a motorized object, in pure terror. Any more shaking and he figured she could pass for a machine. She hid her face in his shirt.  
  
"Bulma's scared."  
  
Sadly, that was when Goku realized her condition was getting worse, on the contrary route he had hoped for. She had started speaking of herself in the third person tense. To humor her, he smiled brightly and patted her head. "Goku will protect Bulma."  
  
Bulma blinked up at him under the vale of her angel-blue eyelashes. "Why?"  
  
His smile softened. "Because we-"  
  
"Because you just can't mind your own damn business."  
  
They both glimpsed to the far left; Vegeta's attention was now on them. "Kakkarot I warned you." And the prince was anything but pleased.  
  
Trunks panicked. "Get back here you-"  
  
"SILENCE!" Vegeta brought his hand up in the air and made a movement, Trunks doubled over in pain.  
  
Bra seemed as frightened as ever, her mind in a state of pure anxiety. She ran up to her brother in a ruffle of skirts and a flash of blue. "TRUNKS!!"  
  
Weakly, the boy forced a smile onto his lips. "Hey sis, w-wanna do your b- big brother a f-favor?"  
  
All at once, he watched her face light up like a Christmas tree. "Yeah!"  
  
"O-ok then," he conveyed his hand up to touch her head. "Wait for me in your room. I'll be r-right there."  
  
"OTAY TRUNKS!"  
  
And with that, she disappeared happily from the room that evil lived in. Once he was sure Bra was long gone, Trunks slowly made his hand reach up to his chest, coughing up a long stream of blood. The boy fell to his knees, one hand clutching at his chest. Whatever it had been that his father had done t him, it sure had hurt. Trunks looked up a few seconds later; his eyes met Bulma's over the room.  
  
"N-no mom, I'm fine." He struggled to get up before she thought the worse from him. By the time he had found his feet once more, it was too late. A look of sheer horror passed Bulma's face. Her eyes filled with unshed tears.  
  
"T-Trunks' hurt." Bulma mumbled emptily. When no one paid her any mind, Bulma buried her face behind the aqua lace of her hair.  
  
"On your feet Kakkarot." Vegeta hissed, watching the younger Saiyan cradle his wife in his arms.  
  
Goku sighed, knowing where this would lead. "Vegeta, you're not-"  
  
"I said, get up!" A roar of fury escaped his lips while a surge cut through him. The source? Vegeta smirked, what else could be causing his anger? "Now, get up."  
  
"I don't want to fight you, Vegeta." Replied Goku.  
  
Vegeta derided at his rival. "We're way past idiotic conversing. Time to take action!"  
  
There came a shake of the head from Goku. "We do not have to resort to violence."  
  
To their dread, Vegeta began to make his way to the bedside Bulma and Goku shared, stopping short a couple of feet. "Hand over my onna then!"  
  
Bulma watched on in revulsion while her keeper loosened his hold over the contours of her body. She gasped loudly.  
  
"There," Declared Goku. "if she wishes so, she's free to leave."  
  
Light from the sun spilled in the room, setting it ablaze. The soft shadows danced in every nook and cranny as the men observed Bulma. Vegeta eyed the woman with the most care. He watched the way her disoriented eyes shoot from person to person in the room, the way her frame shook. He could only guess it was a conditioned reaction to the sudden lack of heat around her; he growled. Dam her, damn the third class baka as well.  
  
"Well?" Vegeta alleged roughly. A few minutes later, his son stood to his right, a mirror image with different coloring.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
To the surprise and disappointment to both Trunks and Vegeta, Bulma still refused to move. Rather her eyes shot across the distance that felt like miles to her, meeting a pair of gentle oxford eyes. There after, she made a ruffling dash of covers into the arms of her choice. A hiss of rage followed closely.  
  
Bulma lay her head on Goku's lower chest, having wrapped her peachy arms around his perfectly sculpted torso. "H-he scares me, Goku." Bulma buried her head into his shirt, as if she closed her eyes her fear would vanish. "Goku protect Bulma?" Her voice broke.  
  
It took even Trunks a few instances to chronicle what was going on. He was not the only one who watched as Goku regained his balance, sitting up after the rush impact of Bulma returning into his arms. Vegeta cursed a few words in his native tongue, then took a few steps closer to the 'happy couple'. Bulma began to tense up noticeably.  
  
"Hai Bulma." Responded Goku, his eyes locking with Vegeta's over her head. "I'll protect you," there was a pause, their glare intensified. "From anyone."  
  
An enraged appearance adorned the face of the raven-haired prince. He would not be mocked, no would he be denied.  
  
"Get up." He transported his arms over the bed, winding his fingers tightly around Bulma's shoulder. She shot her eyes open wide in responsive shock. Fear soon crept its way into her system replacing her astonishment. The fear, Vegeta resentfully noticed, was of him. "Come on, onna."  
  
Bulma's arms were literally pried off of Goku, her hands taking fists full of the covers with her, like a cat refusing to go within 3 feet of water. In the end it was all utterly useless, Vegeta held her at his wicked mercy. He gave her a cold smirk, then wrenched her frail body into his arms. Underestimating his strength, her face fell into his stone-hard chest, holding her hands over her head in his own. Upon finding herself in his arms, the first thing that came into her mind was to fight him off. Bite him, kick him, do anything to get away from Vegeta....anything her mind shouted at her. Bulma took her right arm out of his hold and swung, causing Vegeta to move back a few steps.  
  
Goku and Trunks expected there to be anger in Vegeta's eyes as a result to his wife's prior action. Yet what they found lingering in the obsidian eyes was amusement. His nose trickled up softly, the remains of his face moving to accommodate the display of humor in his eyes. Without warning, he busted up in a fit of menacing laughter, as if he had just heard the most humorous thing in the world.  
  
"Foolish onna."  
  
Then the laughter ended, the expected fury shinned through, the sun after the storm. Only this time, it was scalding, burning, and the embodiment of heavenly hell. Bulma shivered, trying to mask her obvious fear. Something inside of her was shouting, run! She would have loved to run, had she control over her own body.  
  
"V-ve...."  
  
Two fingers were placed on her lips, silencing her. "Hush onna. No more talking from you." His words scared her, but not as much as his next action. Vegeta wound his arms around Bulma, pulling her up to him. "I'd much rather you not do much more talking. We have things to deal with later."  
  
Trunks cleared his throat.  
  
Goku watched on.  
  
Bulma....did nothing....  
  
"So say ja'ne to the baka and tell your son to leave."  
  
Under the harsh glare of her husband it was hard for Bulma to do anything. She knew that a good wife had to be adroit to all of these things, especially the wife of a Saiyan prince. But for some reason her strength failed her all at once. She sighed heavily, lifting her chest with a deep breath.  
  
"Trunks.... please... leave."  
  
Trunks balled his hands into fists. "FINE!" he glared at his father. "But if I hear anything sounding anywhere near her screaming, I'm coming in here."  
  
Vegeta scoffed. "Yes, yes we know, you'll play hero."  
  
There came a glare from the lavender youth. "That's right. So watch it, Vegeta." Then he was gone, as if he never had been in the room in the first place. His presence lingered in the room for what seemed like an instant and then it too had left, leaving Bulma alone in her fears.  
  
With her son gone from the room, she felt something in her tell her that Vegeta was about to take things on a bit more different. She shuttered lightly under his arms, knowing that this was something she could not get out of no matter who was there to help her. The fear was written in her eyes, eyes that had suddenly aged years beyond counting. From his fair distance away from Vegeta and Bulma, Goku met her scared blue eyes over their space. It hurt him, cut him like a knife to his soul, to see her so helpless. Goku turned his hands into fists then reached one hand out to touch Bulma's covered shoulder.  
  
Vegeta watched his rival move to touch his onna, seemed like the baka never learned. "Don't you ever touch my onna! Is that clear Kakkarot? She is MINE, I OWN HER! Touch her again and I'll rip your spine through the barrels of your third-class ass!"  
  
That was it. Those were the words that sent Goku over the edge, braking the damn of anger he had long since started holding in. Goku gently took hold of Bulma once more and pushed her to the side, the bed braking her fall. Bulma looked up at her savior and Vegeta, what happened from here would all be history in a matter of seconds. She couldn't tare her eyes away, would Goku really snap?  
  
Instead, Goku walked closer to Vegeta, leaving a few inches between them, and then he spoke. His lips hardly parted, omitting a dangerously low hiss to his prince. "Vegeta, Kami knows I'm not an angry man and I try not to be. But if you ever, ever again, in your life refer to Bulma as nothing more than an object," Goku moved in, narrowing his eyes at the shorter Saiyan. "I'll be the one doing the spine-ripping."  
  
Vegeta managed a laugh. "You'd go against your blood, your heritage, your destiny, and even your prince over a simple baka onna?!" A laugh came from the prince once more. "She's nothing! She's just a common baka wh-"  
  
Bulma felt her eyes blur with unshed tears, so that's all he really saw her as. The room was covered in a blanket of silence, Vegeta never getting to finish his statement. Bulma opened her eyes that had previously been shut. The silence was shattered like glass falling from the floor. That's when they all heard it, that's when it happened. That's when Goku sent his hand flying across Vegeta's face and he brought his knee to his prince's chest.  
  
~*~  
  
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All comments, flames, suggestions, anything else, are welcome. ^_^ 


	5. Chapter Five: Go on and run to him

DISCLAIMER: Go on...sue meeh...I straight dare ya! Come on sue meeh! *Sighs* In case you still don't know...NO, I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. I'm just this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. So since I don't own, nor do I have any money, suing is just out of the question. MOVE ON!  
  
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Summary: A chain of dramatic events leave Bulma thinking, will she notice what her life's been missing all along? Will she leave Vegeta and run into the arms of someone else, or will she forgive him? And with the changes going on, how many marriages will be put in danger?  
  
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AN:  
  
Ok I am so sorry to those who actually read this story. I've been so busy with school that I have no chance to write! -_- Isn't that some crap (for lack of better word)? I will try to get chapters out in more of a hurry for those that care, but I can't make any big promises. I'll try. How's that? ^_^  
  
Once more thanks to Son-Kun for all the help that he gives meeh with this story!! It wouldn't be where it is without him. Mai muse. ^__^ So thanks a million, Son-Kun.  
  
Uh...other than that I got nothing. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and feel free to review if you like it. The more reviews, the more I want to write. Nothing makes a writer (if you can call meeh that) feel more loved than good reviews. As always, enjoy this chapter and happy reading to all of my readers.  
  
~LadyB AKA Bulma Briefs  
  
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Broken Beyond Repair  
  
Rated: R  
  
Chapter Five: Go on and run to him.  
  
Written by: The Brilliant Lady Bulma *formally known as LadyBulma24*  
  
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Bulma watched in horror, the world having yawed of its axis. It was impossible. And yet it was the moment that a part of her knew would always come. The clash of two gods--was it really possible? She closed her deep blue eyes; it was like a dream, a bad dream. Vegeta and Goku, now in a full scaled fight, right before her eyes. For a second her insanity cleared, it was nothing to her due to her own sense of now impending loss. What was she going to do with this? In hushed horror she watched, Vegeta lunged forward but found himself stopped by Goku's fists. She winced and forced her mind to stop running in eight different directions all at once. Why could she not feel? Why was she so numb? Her body gave no response.  
  
"Blasted third-class."  
  
The voice echoed hollowly in her ears, like she was not really a part of the room. Suddenly Bulma felt like an on-looker. It seemed to her now that she had floated out of her body, watching her near-lifeless self observe the fight with no reaction. Even if she had wanted to do something, what was there to be done? Had she stepped into the fight the minute the first punch was thrown maybe she would have stood a chance to stop them. Now she was better off being a fly on the wall for the help she could offer them. Bulma brought her trembling hand to her cold pale lips, covering them softly. The smallest of gasps escaped her mouth at the moment; it went unheard. Even if they had heard, would they have stopped? She doubted it.  
  
For a minute she shut her eyes brutally until finally white parches of strain appeared in her closes black vision. What was she trying to do, her mind barked at her. No matter how had she shut her eyes the minute she opened them the sight before her would be there, having never really left her. Maybe she was better off never opening her eyes again for as long as she lived, pondered her mind absently. Maybe she could sleep forever....  
  
A raspy, edgy shout torn in the room, Bulma eyes snapped open.  
  
"G-g-get o-off of m-me!"  
  
What a sight. Bulma dropped her hands from her face, falling with a thump on her lap. What a sight to be hold indeed. There stood her prince with the look of pure murder on his face over the helpless body of the man being subject to his rule. Goku shut one eye, grunting out in pain faintly in a vein attempt to keep what was left of his Saiyan pride. They all had it; it was the curse they were born with. A Saiyan man would rather die than cry out in pain. What an arrogant bunch, the lot of them. Vegeta on the other hand seemed to radiate satisfaction in watching the younger Saiyan hurt. He beamed cruelly as he put more force on his foot as he crushed it down into Goku's chest in hopes of thinning his air. She couldn't believe her eyes, the bastards was actually smirking! SMIRKING! Out of all things, there he stood with aspirations to kill the man that had saved his life on so many countless occasions and all Vegeta could do was smirk.  
  
Bulma felt her blood boil, once again her insanity flickering back and forth. She had to do something, anything, just so she was not simply sitting back watching her best friend take the beating of his life. It was evident wherever it had been that Vegeta had gone he had gotten more than just enough training done. The once mediocre power that had surged from the prince reached astonishing levels, hitting that it wasn't even the tip of his iceberg. Something had to be done, or else Bulma knew that Vegeta would not stop, and Goku would not even stand a shadow of a chance. If given the time she knew her husband would not stop until Goku was nothing but an air- empty carcass. Not knowing what else to do, she took to her feet and screamed as loud as he lungs allowed.  
  
"Vegeta no!!" Screamed Bulma at the top of her lungs.  
  
The men paid her no attention; on the contrary, her voice seemed to fuel the fire that lit the fight. She watched with her tear-streaked, frightened eyes as he husband lifted Goku's limp body up by the collar of his shirt; his head snapping back weakly due to the loss of air trying to fight off the enraged prince. Even still, as the blood began to drip from his pale lips, Goku had to wonder, who was stronger? There had been a change in Vegeta, a major change that he could not place. His power had skyrocketed.  
  
"Know your place!" Vegeta hissed before sending his fist crashing against the face of his enemy. Goku fell back down to the floor with a heavy 'thud' in a response to the hit. For some reason he could not bring himself to fight back. Perchance, a part of him said, it would be useless to struggle.  
  
"You can't fight it. It's in your blood." Mocked Vegeta. "Fight back!" his words were accented each followed by a blow to Goku's face. Bulma watched in horror while her best friend's stunning features were being violated, his visage thrown left and right with each punch he absorbed. Why was he not fighting back?!  
  
Obviously exhausted, Vegeta retracted his fist from the face of his victim, leaving it at a nearly unrecognizable state. They listened as Bulma drew in her breath once more. Vegeta turned to his left with sadistic haste, smirking lightly. The revulsion coming from the woman seemed to amuse him. For once, he mentally noted, her eyes fell on Kakkarot and they were not filled with light. No, this time it was something far worse. Usually if she let her eyes grace Kakkarot's features, Vegeta could automatically watch them light up, like a child on Christmas day. But now things were much more pleasing to his malicious point of view. Now it seemed that a thin line of sickness laced by trepidation floated in the abyss of Bulma's eyes, she even took to backing away from Goku, something she had never done. Vegeta found his smirk widening, for once she appeared to fear Kakkarot. With a contemptible glare he observed the foolish woman bring a greater distance between her and the third-class baka, as if the distance would ease her visual scars. Her actions pleased the prince, subsiding his urge for destruction.  
  
The fallen warrior slid to his side, blood dripping like small cherry rubies from his pallid lips. Goku use all of the force left in his face to slowly move his lips, sound emitting from them vigilantly. "B-Bulma....."  
  
"GOKU!" Bulma's face abruptly blanched, then regained all color all at once.  
  
Vegeta growled. One word from that bastard and she was standing on the tip of her bare feet, ready to leap into his arms at a moment's notice. He frowned, it was time to fix that. Taking a deep lung forward Vegeta brought his fist up into the space over Goku's stricken body. Then just as he prepared to deliver a blow, which appeared to be final one of a fight, something stopped him, something held him back. And that something had attached herself to his waist.  
  
"Vegeta please..." Her profound cerulean eyes glanced up at him in hopes to crack his thick exterior front. She still thought that there was something inside of her that could get through to him, a certain something that could make him change. But those were foolish dreams...nothing but imprudence masked by a thin layer of insanity. "Vegeta...that's enough. S-stop it!" Wavered her voice.  
  
A minute later Bulma found herself standing fully on her feet inches away from her husband. He glared down at her as if silently taunting her, daring her to repeat herself "What was that?"  
  
"I...I said...." She paused briefly, gulping back a lump in her throat. That voice of his...it left her no room for discussion. Bulma stole a glimpse of her fallen protector, his eyes serving as more than enough of a pillar of strength allowing her to form her words. "-Stop it."  
  
For a second, Vegeta could not believe his ears. Had he heard right? Had that onna given him an ultimatum? He fixed his glare on her to the point where he was sure his wife was even scared to breathe. He loomed above her proudly, his eyes unchanging from his spouse in some kind of animal blend of desire and rage. She took a step back trying to escape him, but was stopped when her knees made of led suddenly gave up under her. Bulma's body tilted backwards. A hand came out to greet her, gloved and strangely stiff with a ridged sensation she had never seen before. The dark prince had reached out to her in a blinding swiftness, as if to help her up. Yet just like the rest of her hallucinations compliments of her insanity, that was not the case. The speed he used was inhuman, she never saw the hand that flew towards her. His actions were as unceremoniously as possible, her body never given enough time to process her own sickening thud as her weak body slammed into the concrete wall a few feet from her. It fell flattered on empty air.  
  
Vegeta scowled, he was going to have to teach her a lesson, the hard way. He would not be told what to do, by his woman or not. "Don't you ever cross me again. Onna I give the orders here." Hissed Vegeta, taking a few steps closer to the fallen remains of who once was a proud and powerful woman. An oddly content expression lingered on his face at the sight of the broken woman. It seemed for an instant that he took gratification in hurting her, his sick sense of pride grew at making her shake with the simple act of speaking. Goku balled his fists up at his sides from his position on the floor. How could Vegeta take pleasure in hurting Bulma, a woman who would have never stood for such treatment, in a manner so?  
  
"Get up." The prince ordered his wench insolently. Much to his expectation, she obeyed, weakly bringing her feet up to step on the lush feel of the carpet. Her body hummed in a dull aching pain that only seemed to strengthen as her weight shifted from one foot to the next. Vegeta brought his fingers to Bulma's chin roughly, forcing her to face him while taking one of her wrists, the right one, in his free hand. "Now then..." he taunted her to defy him once more. "What were you saying?"  
  
Bulma shook her head from side to side softly, trying her damnedest to keep her tears in check. It was the smartest move she had made all day because it seemed to allow Vegeta's anger to subside; he let go of her hand slightly. Once more she could feel the sensation of her blood flowing in her veins to her now liberated wrist, the color also returning. Bulma had nothing to say anymore, she feared now that even if she took in a breath too loudly it would upset his highness. That was the last thing she wanted to do. Lowering her face she decided that she should stay in her place, which seemed to be now miles and miles below Vegeta's status. She was not worthy, she told herself, unworthy even to be the desk collecting at the booted foot of his excellence.  
  
Goku watched the change in his best friend with a fevered abhorrence that seemed to take all of his will power to control. A part of him knew that he had to applaud Vegeta, it took one hell of a man to say that they had been in the heart of Bulma Briefs. Yet at the same time that was the reason that he had to hurt Vegeta clear of a recognizable state. Having a place in Bulma's heart was not something that should have been taken lightly. Vegeta took it for granted, as if he were the only man that could ever love Bulma when in reality he was only one among many. The blue haired enchantress would never be without her set of suitors; her beauty was enough to summon men from all corners of the world. Yet, that very same beauty was at the brink of death's door, with Vegeta to thank for it. She was bruised, tattered and broke, left with very little strength to do much else. No matter what she wanted to do or what she wanted to say Bulma knew that it was not her place to speak on the matter. She kept her mouth shut like a good little wench. After a few more minutes of an uncomfortable observation the subject of all attention sent her eyes to the ground inches away from where her fallen savior lay, much to the displeasure of her husband. Her careless act earned her a sharp jolt of the face.  
  
"Don't you ever ignore me, baka!" This time however the words were followed by a stronger even hit to the face of the angel, conveying Bulma back to the confinement of the flooring below her. Goku shut his eyes to the sight, as she landed not even a good two feet from his own body. Bulma had not even had the strength to scream this time. That, along with many of the cumulative actions having passed, brought Goku to his feet once more. He was not going to allow this to happen anymore. Goku vowed that he would put an end to Vegeta's rein of domestic tyranny even if it killed him.  
  
"You've done enough!" Declared Goku, whipping the blood off of his lower lip elusively while he spoke so he did not bring a brake to his words.  
  
Vegeta tore his eyes from the contentment he found in Bulma's threadbare form. "Are you up again, third-class?"  
  
Goku narrowed his eyes, they burned brightly like the hot coals in the heart of a blazing fire of odium. "Hai, I am. And I'm going to stop you."  
  
A near-deafening laugh was heard from Vegeta as his chest jumped up and down with the sound being emitted from his throat. "You seem to think you can stop me?!" Once more the prince laughed after the emphasis in his words wore off. "Take a good look, Kakkarot, the onna seems to be useless right about now. She won't stop me from killing you this time around." As if on cue, both men glanced down at Bulma.  
  
Watching her with careful eyes, Goku could tell that the woman in question wanted nothing more than to vanish at the moment. It was quite obvious that Bulma could not take very much more of the judging eyes of her best friend and the man she was ashamed to call husband and mate. The sight of Bulma at the moment broke every string in Goku's heart, she looked so destroyed. Goku turned and took a few steps forward to Bulma who lay on the floor looking down until she heard his nearing steps. Whether she figured the noise was coming from Vegeta or not was out of the question, the fact that she had nearly leapt a full three feet into the air was all that mattered. The gentle Saiyan watched Bulma's over-sized blue eyes rise from the ground once her body had settled on the carpeted floor yet again. Her face scared him, never had he seen her in a manner so.  
  
Astringent blood dripped softly down the nostrils of her delicate nose creating a trail of scarlet down to her lip, her vulnerable face already swelling due to the pressure of the hit her husband had landed on her. No... Goku shook his head from side to side all the while watching Bulma even more. Vegeta had no right to call himself her husband let alone her mate. A real man would never hurt his own wife in a manner as atrocious as this, both physically and spiritually. But Vegeta had done that and much more, he had stripped Bulma of any pride she had left. He had to be stopped...  
  
"How could you..." Goku's voice trailed off into a dim mumble. "HOW COULD YOU?!" His voice was a low growl now, his hair turned into a brilliant gold with his eyes turning into a dangerous shade of teal to match.  
  
His rival took a step back mockingly. "Oh look, the weak baka finally decided to grace me with his sorry excuse for a power level."  
  
"Hai...grace you..." The golden warrior balled his hands into tight compact fists causing the flare of blinding aura to intensify with his rage. If Vegeta wanted to have things this way, so be it. Kami knew that he always tried to avoid fights but now, seeing the truth behind the passion that Bulma and Vegeta shared, Goku knew that he could not just walk away from this. Something had to be done and that something had to be done now.  
  
"Do you honestly think that you can stop me?"  
  
Amidst of the intoxicating luminosity of Goku's aura the taller Saiyan curved his lips into a cold smirk. "Hai, I do." With that said, he began to power up even more. His figure took on another form, the tips of his sun- kisses hair grow brighter and longer with every ounce of anger that pumped through his veins.  
  
"Enough of the light tricks, you're boring me Kakkarot." Scorned Vegeta while his subject cracked his fist against his open palm to the point where it was damn near painful. Still, he said nothing. Talking would have been a waist of his concentration level and at that point he needed all he could get. He was about to pay Vegeta the lesson of his life. "All you can do is stand there because you know if you were to-" Suddenly the words of the prince were silenced.  
  
Goku had brought his hand up and across Vegeta's stone face, sending it yawing backwards. Before the enraged Goku even knew what he was doing he had slammed into Vegeta, continuing his assault on Vegeta as far from Bulma as he could. Goku facevaulted for a moment as he registered the fact what he was doing then regaining his composure, his anger reaching its limits finally. Even from his fallen position in Goku's death grip, Vegeta still managed to choke out a strained laugh.  
  
"Y-you swear...that this baka...means so much..." Vegeta's eyes traveled over to Bulma's quaking figure, she never met his eyes. "....She does not mean this much...not m-more than your life...."  
  
"You're wrong Vegeta!" Goku frowned at Vegeta's choice of words for Bulma. "She is no baka and as a matter of fact... Bulma is worth much more than you know!" He applied ample pressure to his victim's throat while he pinned him up defenselessly up against the same wall he had slain his wife against. "And for what you've done to her...I'll make you pay tenfold!"  
  
Vegeta could not hold his laughter back for any longer, and even though each chuckle coming from his body at the moment felt like a million knives being plummeted into his chest, a laugh still erupted from his lips. "K- Kakkarot, y-you will never defeat me..."  
  
"Oh? Looks like I am."  
  
"No...you will never! You are too weak...to hurt a prince...you are just n- not strong enough." Vegeta knew that his own words were nothing but a bluff. It was a known fact that Goku could and probably would mop the floor with Vegeta now, even in his normal state the younger Saiyan was much stronger. Not to mention now that his anger had reached its peak and he was at a full Super Saiyan Form Two.  
  
"I don't want to have to hurt you Vegeta." Goku pulled back slightly, allowing color to flow back into the face of his prince. "So I'm going to give you one last chance...get out of here and never look back. EVER! I want you to stay away from Bulma!"  
  
"L-let me get this straight K-Kakkarot, you want me to stay away from my onna?"  
  
"No! I want you to stay away from Bulma!"  
  
Vegeta frowned. "S-she belongs to me!"  
  
The words caused Goku to do the same and continue to power up even more, letting go of any barriers he was holding back on. "She does not! You do not own her!"  
  
"She belongs more to me than she does to you." Objected Vegeta. "You never had her," at that moment a smirk form along the corners of Vegeta's lips. "And you never will." Those words fell stronger than anyone had expected. Goku's eyes gleamed with vicious murder; he would not allow Vegeta to take another breath. Things had gone on far enough. In a second he was his final form, his hair having returned to its customary ebony and his now dark eyes lined with a deep crimson. This only made Vegeta's laughter more fervent still. "Am I right Kakkarot?"  
  
"You're wrong Vegeta." Goku smirked.  
  
"How so, Baka?"  
  
Goku turned for a moment, letting his eyes roam over Bulma who watched the whole thing. She did not move, nor did she want to. The fear vanished from her face for a minute. When Goku pulled his frame to the side allowing her view of Vegeta, he saw the way she squirmed under the shorter male's glare. "Well...Bulma doesn't fear me." The statement was said with pride.  
  
And the effect worked as planned, Vegeta glared knives at Bulma before returning his intense stare to Goku. He was right...that blasted baka had been right. But it would have been a cold day in hell before Vegeta admitted his loss to the younger Saiyan. After a moment of quick, uneasy silence, Vegeta pushed Goku off of him fully. "If you aren't going to kill me get away from me, being this close to you makes me sick." He powered down to his normal state and continued to walk away from Goku, until finally he reached his destination.  
  
Bulma trembled in fear as a taller figure loomed over her with shadows dancing along his stone cold face. "Kakkarot...if this is what you want so be it." Vegeta leaned down on one knee before Bulma, her eyes shooting open to their widest capacity. For a quick moment Goku thought he would strike his best friend once more. The feeling passed when Vegeta took Bulma's face into his gloved hand and brought her face to his stealing a heated kiss from the confused woman. A minute later he pulled back and licked his lips with a smirk. "Keep the whore for yourself. She's not too bad in the sack." With his cold words being said Vegeta rose to a powerful stance taking Bulma up roughly with him. He tossed her as if she were a rag doll in a direction away from his own.  
  
The blue haired woman shut her eyes, with her body being hurled into the air, sure that she would come in contact with a wall once more. However much to her pleasant surprise she was enveloped in the warmth of someone's embrace. Slowly opening her eyes, she was met forward with a face full of orange fabric. A content and relieved sigh spilled from her lips. A force of habit caused her to bring her arms around Goku's neck as if he were dear life, her nose taking in his sent. She decided that his sent was strong... almost as strong as he was. She shut her eyes; his sent...his embrace, everything about him was numbing the pain.  
  
"Take this piece of trash and get it out of my sight!"  
  
Subconsciously Goku found his once relaxed features returning to the familiar territory of displeasure. How could his rival simply disown his wife as if she were yesterday's garbage? He would not allow it, Goku knew that deep down it was merely Vegeta's pride speaking. Anything would have been said at the moment, just so his majesty did not loose his cool.  
  
Vegeta cut through the gentle Saiyan's thoughts. "I said get rid of her Kakkarot. You want her so badly, take her. But it is now you two that must never return here." The prince's booming voice filled the room to the brim, Bulma sought to escape it.  
  
"You can't just tell us to leave like that! This is her home! You are the stranger living here!"  
  
"You will do what you two are told if you want to live!"  
  
Goku frowned even deeper and tightened his arms around Bulma. "We both know I could murder you in seconds Vegeta...." Goku allowed his voice to trail off.  
  
"But you won't do it because you're soft. So leave..."  
  
"And if we don't leave?" Goku pushed Bulma to the side gently, leaning her against the cold bedpost as he walked closer to Vegeta. "What will you do, almighty Vegeta?" Goku spat the last few words out of his mouth as sarcastically as he could possibly muster.  
  
Vegeta backed away from the much taller Saiyan and began to pace the room, a pensive thought filling the lines of his rock solid face. "I would do things that are unimaginable...." something in Vegeta's voice was lacking. The seriousness of the matter was thinning. "Just leave." He was unearthly calm.  
  
The change in Vegeta did not go unnoticed; first it was taken in by his rival and then the woman in his arms. They could not place their fingers on what it was that had now changed distinctly in the aloof warrior. It seemed that all of a sudden his heated words had lost their meaning, his voice no longer crude. No matter how hard he tried to, Vegeta just did not sound as indifferent and irate as he had when the conversation had first begun. Bulma parted her lips softly hoping to form sound but not completely sure. Her throat was so dry; it felt like a desert. She would not be surprised if she did not speak again for days on end. "V-Vegeta..."  
  
"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TWO TO GET OUT!" Roared Vegeta while once more powering up to his Super Saiyan form.  
  
In a startled motion of pure instinct Goku pulled Bulma closer to his chest until her diminutive figure was tightly pressed against his own. This only appeared to infuriate the prince even more. "GET OUT!"  
  
Goku brought one arm down to Bulma's lower back to shield her from any stray debris coming towards them in response to Vegeta's godly power. The other hand, Vegeta quickly noticed, was taken forward away from Bulma's body and leaning more towards his own face. Just when the iron prince was ready to demand an explication, Goku lowered all fingers but two and transported them in front of his forehead in a common style. "This isn't over Vegeta."  
  
"I agree, Kakkarot."  
  
With that said Goku's mind had been made up. In a sudden burst of a blinding white light, the pair vanished from the room leaving Vegeta alone. Alone with his thoughts that nagged him softly like the persuasive voice of Lucifer...What had he just done? Had he openly let the gates of hell swing open by allowing the woman to run off with Kakkarot? He had seen the way that they had looked at each other when he had first come into the room. There was something there that he had always hoped never to see. And now that he was seeing it he knew that leaving them alone was a dangerous thing to do. Things could go wrong, although the woman was in no condition to be raising hell of the nature, if given enough time Vegeta knew what would happen. It was in Saiyan blood; it would come down to instinct at the very end of the situation. Lust would over power them both. The bottom line was he felt that if given enough time he Bulma and Goku would find their way closer to each other than they already were.  
  
Vegeta balled his hands up tightly until the blood had drained from around his knuckles; as a result they turned a pale white. He could not allow that to happen. He would not let Kakkarot take his woman right from under him. If those were the intention of the third class baka, there would be hell to pay. With a slow stride the puzzled Saiyan made his way to the window located at the other end of the room, over looking the dimming scenery of the backyard to the Capsule Corporation complex. Bulma Briefs always had been, always would be, his woman. Not a soul alive could take that from him, vowed Vegeta. A few seconds later he had kicked the window open and had flown off into the night sky heading as far away from Capsule Corps as he could fly. The ice-cold wind chapped at his cheeks hungrily whilst Vegeta took the time to speed up. A part of him was racing madly in an attempt escape the confinements of the Capsule Corps; the other part of him sought to elude his own thoughts. And it was no wonder; his mind was racing at a speed nearly matching to the one he flew at making it quite hard on him to concentrate. But one thing rang loud and clear as he parted the sky with his angelic speed.  
  
Mark my words, Kakkarot, the onna is mine....  
  
Then in a streak across the sky, Vegeta disappeared from even the sight of Kami himself.  
  
~*~  
  
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